The Hunt
by DarkHorse26
Summary: A crook at Magic Guild wants Guile dead and misleads people into hunting him down. Unfortunately, the criminal doesn't know that a true man never dies even when he's killed.


Again, like _Heaven-Smiting Masked Magician_ , this is attempted to be as insane as possible.

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Chrono Cross.**

* * *

"All right, boy. Be a nice guy and follow us."

Sitting on the counter's tall stool, Guile calmly picked up a wine bottle and poured some of the alcoholic drink into his glass.

Suddenly, he felt a strong smack on his back, which nearly sent him hitting the counter with his face.

"Damn you! Get serious!"

Guile remained silent. Those people didn't know that he was actually readying himself to kick their ass.

In a flash, he snatched the wine glass and turned, hurling the red liquid at the burly man's face. The big guy covered his eyes with his hands, taking a few step backwards as he whimpered in pain.

Guile threw the wine glass at the head of another guy. The impact carved a bloody fissure on the man's forehead.

"Oh, shit!" The man hunched a little, grasping his bleeding head.

Guile returned his attention to the guy whom he threw his wine at. The man was still covering his eyes with his hands.

 _A chance._

In an instant, he grabbed the wine bottle on the counter and smashed its body against the flat surface. He had a weapon of his own now.

Guile walked towards the man; one hand grabbing the collar of his tee, another hand squeezing the spiky ends of the broken bottle against his cheek. "Why are you after me?"

The man let go of his eyes, squinting. "Who wouldn't chase someone with 1,000,000 G bounty on his head?"

"I have a bounty on my head?" Guile asked quietly.

"Somebody sticks up those posters around Magic Guild."

"Who did that?"

"We don't really know."

Guile sighed. "Let me tell you something. Bounty is not legit if the target is not a criminal. The posters must be hung by someone from the officials as well."

"Officials? We f-f-forget about that!" the man stuttered. "Forgive us and let us go, o-okay?"

"I will, but only if you can tell me more about the person who hung those posters."

"Um, I don't remember a lot, but that guy wanders around with some rolls of duct tape and a stack of paper."

"Thank you," Guile replied, releasing the big guy from his grip.

"Er, we must thank you too. You're such a gentleman," the man said, smiling as he turned around and waved his hand at his other friend. "Let's leave, buddy."

The two men walked out of the bar.

Guile smirked to himself. The guy who hung his posters around Magic Guild was eligible as a criminal, which meant that there was a bounty for him to hunt, even if the officials had not announced how much they would give for turning him in.

That issue was also rewarding in many ways. Money and adrenaline; who didn't love those?

"Criminal? Man, _you_ are the criminal! You made a mess and scared me shitless!"

That snapped Guile out of his thoughts. He turned to see the bartender panting and grasping his chest with a hand.

"You gotta pay! First, the cleaning service. Second, the broken bottle and glass. Actually, there's the third, but I'm too busy to see a doctor to address my heart problems."

Guile turned around and waved a hand. "Once I have done this bounty hunting, I will be back to pay."

"Keep your words, man!"

* * *

Guile walked down the concrete streets, looking around as he did. Posters of his face between a huge 'WANTED' and '1,000,000 G' were everywhere.

This criminal sure needed a lesson.

Without uttering a single word, he walked towards a T junction further ahead. He then turned, entering a dead-end alley upon surveying what was in it.

It was a perfect place to settle on. The alley was not too big, and the garbage was useful. Mirror shards and a big sheet of ragged cloth were all he needed.

Guile sat down, his back facing the entrance of the alley. He then pulled the cloth closer to him and covered himself with it. It made a good disguise; people would perceive him as a bum and pay less attention to him.

With a hand, he held the cloth to prevent it from falling off and messing up his disguise. With his other hand, he picked up the biggest shard of glass. It was a good device to keep an eye on passersby without being conspicuous.

He spent about an hour looking at the broken mirror, but he hadn't found anything interesting. A gypsy, a few imps, some magicians; they weren't his targets.

His back and neck soon ached and stiffened as he had spent almost another hour looking at the glass. His eyes hurt and were about to shut, but he was still staring at the mirror. He wouldn't rest until he caught that crook and ended the problem with faulty posters.

A few minutes later, he saw a man entering the alley.

It appeared that his plan was now screwed up, since this unwanted visitor might mess up his disguise.

Or perhaps not.

The man who entered the alley was holding a stack of paper and several rolls of duct tape; it was his prey.

In a blink of an eye, he whirled and hurled the glass shard in his hand at the man.

 _Bull's eye._

The fragment pierced the man's right instep. The injury shocked the guy, sending him falling flat on his butt and scattering the items he was holding earlier.

Guile stood up, threw away the ragged cloth, and walked towards the man slowly. "I'll turn you in."

"Geez, not even such plan can get you killed?" the man growled; his eyebrows twitching in anger.

"You can never kill me. A true man never dies even when he's killed," Guile spoke calmly, picking up some sheet of paper and a roll of duct tape from the mess. "Spreading false information about bounty... Hmph, how low. I'll take these as the proof of your crime."

* * *

The bartender was standing behind the tavern's counter and wiping a glass with a clean white cloth when an unexpected guest visited him.

Guile was standing in front of the counter in his usual pose - his hands kept in the pockets of his trousers.

"You're back already?" the bartender asked, putting down the glass and the cloth on the counter. He reached out his right hand. "Fine. Where's the money?"

Guile fished out a small yet bulky leather sack out of his right pocket and placed it on the bartender's palm. "I believe that should be enough."

The bartender smiled. "Good. You're such a gentleman, buddy." He paused. "Now, what do you want?"

Guile turned around and walked away from the counter. "Sleep."


End file.
